Typical Weirdness
by drama fixated
Summary: She was an utter paradox, he thought. The epitome of an airhead, of craziness. That was what he had thought of her before. It had proved that he knew nothing, absolutely nothing about her. Ron x Luna


Disclaimer: Harry Potter was never (and never will be) mine; he's all J.K. Rowling's.

Author's Note: My birthday present for the loffly **Nia** (née **Kristina**), who's a great friend and also rocks much socks. Happy Birthday (and hope you have a great 17th!)!

This also goes out to the readers/reviewers who have encouraged/helped me .. thanks so much for your critique. Here's my way of saying thank you (because you can't get enough thank yous ;) ).

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She was an utter paradox, he thought. The epitome of an airhead, of craziness. Odd, suffering from lunacy.

That was what he had thought of her before. It had proved that he knew nothing, absolutely _nothing_ about her.

He knew the truth now; she hadn't been suffering from lunacy. She never had. It had been what he believed before, the false truth.

He had been stupid to not know the real truth about her – what was behind her indifferent, airy facade. A perfect mask of free-spiritedness, vivid and sparkling.

He found her endearing – she believed in things that weren't true or real. But he didn't find her endearing in the 'cute, innocent little girl' way. No, he found her endearing in the 'you got to love her for being herself even if she drives a man insane one day' way.

Crumple Horned Snorkacks, pigs that flew – she believed in the impossible. She wasn't innocent, or stupid. Even if she appeared to be that way, in reality she wasn't. She wasn't lost, drifting in the darkness, like he had once been. She was herself – and always herself. There was no logic in her life, in her world, he mused.

As long as she had her fantasies, make believe creatures that didn't exist, she was happy, he knew. They were what made her Luna; without them and her natural, gravity-defying aura, she wouldn't be herself. And he hated seeing her be normal – it wasn't right.

That he knew now. Normality wasn't right, wasn't right for her.

But then, everyone had a different idea on what 'normal' was. As long as they accepted themselves for who they were and didn't change anything about the way they were, they would be happy, he believed. And she had taught him that. There was no such thing as normal, that he knew.

Yet she deceived people. She had deceived him at first. At the Department of Mysteries, and after that, he had seen a different side of her that he had never seen before, and made him think – truly think – about her, and what she meant to him.

She was a fighter, a pillar of strength when there was no one left, when even the strongest of people was weak and couldn't go on. She was the person's ray of hope, as much as she was his.

Ever shining in the darkness, a reason and inspiration for him to go on, and fight on with all he had. A true fighter, that's what she was – she was no weakling. A fiery brightness lit her eyes and made them seem even bluer than they were; and she struck, and struck hard.

After that event, he knew that she was no typical girl – or any mere weird girl, for that matter. 'Typical weirdness' didn't exist when it came to her. Maybe because there was no such thing in the first place, he thought.

Where she was weak, he was strong – and where_he _was weak, she was the one who was strong, supportive. They were a team – an offbeat and weird duo, but a team nonetheless. They could work together and escape with their lives, preparing for the next adventure or danger.

At first he had worked grudgingly with her – wearily thinking to himself about what little they were going to (supposedly) accomplish, and how much precious time they were going to waste, thanks to her being enchanted by anything unusual that came her way.

But then, as time passed and he found himself inexplicably drawn to her, and spending every spare moment he had with her, he found out how wrong he had been – so completely, undeniably wrong.

That taught him to never judge; only look on what was on the inside, not the outside. The inside mattered – the outside didn't. Even if he had been taught that, he knew it was wrong, and only he could decide and know what – or who – mattered.

Maybe that was why he loved her, he reflected.

Because of her Lunaness and who she truly was. Maybe that was it.

At least he knew now, he thought as he watched her happily dance among the flowers, laughing giddily and a bright infectious smile on her face, why he loved her, even if there was no reason – he just did.

That was one of the things she had taught him – there was no reason for anything. It just happened. Spontaneously, unexpectedly.

It was because of her not so typical weirdness. And he smiled slightly at that.


End file.
